BDS: Chapter Thirteen

"Are we clear?" Mordán radioed to his pilot from the middle compartment of his black ship. The ship journeyed slowly through the atmosphere, invisible to the watchful eyes of the Suál's border patrol.

"So far the diversion has seemed a success, Sire," the pilot replied. "The patrol hasn't detected our frequency."

"Akila's knowledge has proved worthy once more," Lucian said as he paced the compartment floor.

"Yes, so you can relax now, Lucian," Mordán stated with a sigh. "Your pacing is making me anxious."

"It is unwise to relax when facing the Avehkal," responded Lucian.

"As one who is favored to control Eltia, you must become better at hiding your lack of bravery."

"Control Eltia?" said Lucian, his eyebrows raised. "I desire no such thing."

"Someone has to," Mordán said with a shrug.

"Is this another empty promise as the one given to the Dark Sector Avehkal?"

"How do you know of my offer to Craenal?"

"The Vaznaun talk among themselves, so I know you went to the Ice Mountains. Speaking of which, how are your advisors supposed to trust you when you keep secrets from them?"

"I only told Craenal that so he would assist us in fighting the tribal warriors. He will not survive to appreciate the fruits of our victory."

"I hope not, for our sake. I hear he is unforgiving when it comes to betrayal."

Mordán rolled his eyes. "You sound like Akila."

"My apologies, Sire. There are many options before us, but you seem to choose the most dangerous path there is. In spite of Akila's magic, Suál's patrol is the least of our worries. To venture into the Dark Regions uninvited is to sign your own death warrant. Ralian is not to be trifled with. It is said, he is even more heartless than Craenal when it comes to those outside his race."

"He will understand when he realizes the reason we could not be announced. Besides, I have the key to his heart, so it is highly unlikely he will refuse my offer."

"Let us hope we live long enough for him to hear the proposal," Lucian replied as he wrung his hands and stared out a window. "There is nothing welcoming about Rastar."

A gray fog enveloped the ship and the pilot slowed their speed. "We are entering the Dark Pass of the Drykvar Mountains," he said through the intercom.

"Once you clear the pass, remove the ship's cloak, so as we approach Rastar the Avehkal will know that we have nothing to hide," replied Mordán.

"As you wish, Sire."

A short while later, Mordán joined the pilot at the front of the ship. The gray fog lifted as the ship passed over a forest of deep blue trees. Large, flat black clouds floated around them but soon cleared to reveal a fleet of drones surrounding the ship. Needlepoint spires spun rapidly around the center of the drones.

"If you wish your lives to be spared, you will state your purpose," a digital voice declared from one of the drones. "Your countdown begins now."

"There is no need for threats," replied Mordán as he pressed a button on the panel before him. "I am Mordán of Kraundor—from the planet Elsaria. I am here to meet with Ralian."

Another voice resounded through the air, deep and accented. "You are unexpected and therefore uninvited. You will have exactly ten seconds to turn around and depart this realm."

The digital voice spoke again. "Ten…nine…"

The pilot tensed and cast Mordán an alarmed look.

Mordán's face remained passive. "I am seeking to employ Ralian and the services of his army…"

"Six…five…"

The pilot closed his eyes.

"…In exchange for his ticket to the Hidden Realms."

The counting ceased and the drones back away. The pilot sighed with relief as Mordán smirked.

A grey cloud in their path evaporated to reveal a silver disc larger than Mordán's. A large Avehkal warrior standing with his arms crossed appeared in the window of the disc as the ship moved closer.

The pilot next to Mordán gasped as he noted the size and appearance of the warrior. The warrior appeared to glow amid the darker surroundings of the land. His skin was completely bronze beneath silver and white hair, which hung to the middle of his pointed ears. Gold markings decorated his skin. Bright gold bands encircled his neck and around the muscles of both arms. A pattern of gold triangles curved along his collarbone. He wore an open gold-trimmed black vest along with black trousers.

The warrior's golden eyes surveyed Mordán and the pilot for several moments before he spoke. "I am Thron of the Avehkal," he said with a deep accent. He smirked. "I hope you come here with a voice of truth, Mordán of Kraundor. If not, Ralian will have your people watch as blood pours from your wounds."

The pilot shuddered.

"I have no reason to deceive him," Mordán replied.

"All who seek power over others exercise deceit," Thron stated. "It seeps from your bones, Elsarian."

Mordán shifted uncomfortably.

"Let us hope you are revealing a truth at least in this part of your plan."

"I am."

"I will take you to Ralian and he will determine that himself."

The disc backed away and darted higher into the sky. Mordán indicated for his pilot to follow.

Though no more clouds filled the sky Mordán's crew followed Thron, the sky gradually darkened. Barren shadowed mountains stood menacing and tall across the lands.

A black-stoned palace came into view a short time later. The buildings and surrounding homes along the land, as well as the palace, appeared to be falling apart. Pieces of stone were riddled across the dry and desolate grounds. Chunks of stone fell freely from the palace structures, including the two abandoned stone towers positioned at the front of the grounds.

The pilot landed the ship near the palace and Mordán and Lucian were led into the building by two Avehkal warriors. An eerie silence fell heavy around the palace as the grounds radiated the dark energy rumored to dominate Rastar.

Mordán and Lucian were taken to a large room, empty of all decoration and furnishings. Its walls and foundations were cracked in various locations. The palace structure vibrated harder as if to protest their presence.

Ralian entered the room followed closely by Thron and two other warriors. Mordán and Lucian bowed formally. Ralian inclined his head, but his gold gaze remained flat. He stood taller than Thron but matched him in muscularity. His silver and white long hair was pinned away from his face. His skin portrayed similar gold markings as that of the other Avehkal, except for an additional gold circular marking on his forehead.

He watched his uninvited guests carefully as they scanned the walls of the room.

"The vibrational patterning of my race does not match the frequency of the land here," Ralian explained. "The incompatibility with the land is why the palace destroys itself and why nothing grows. We are in constant battle with this land. Both it and I wish for my people to leave…" he eyed Mordán with a hard look, "…which is the only reason why an Elsarian and his party have been allowed to live thus far.

"It is rumored among the underground legions that only a Mysteis knows of the key to the Hidden Realms, so you must understand my doubt of your promise. There are few who could steal from a Mysteis and live to reveal it."

"The rumor is true. Yet, it was offered to me freely by a Mysteis herself. I have the map in my possession," Mordán stated as he pulled the book Akila had given him from his cloak and held it out. "I come with no hidden motive. I only request your assistance in turn for the map and key to your journey home."

The expressions of the Avehkal warriors remained unreadable. Ralian raised an eyebrow. "You give me the map freely? I could just kill you and take this for my own use."

"The Mysteis who gave me the book has the key, which you will receive upon completion of my request."

Ralian looked down at the rune across the cover. "This is not written in Faborn runes."

"There are few who know the runes. It is written in the runes of light—the Alendrial runes. The title reads, The Fallen. The weapon I need to help me destroy my enemy is revealed in the book. The process needed to create the weapon has already been translated by the Mysteis."

"And the map?"

"It is located in the binding and can only be viewed in the presence of starlight from a Mysteis—"

Thron moved so quickly that he was behind Mordán, holding a blade to his throat. Lucian's eyes widened in fear, but he remained still as the other two warriors approached him slowly.

Mordán held his hands out before him as Ralian slowly approached. Mordán winced as a drop of blood leaked from beneath Thron's blade.

Ralian cocked his head as he peered down at Mordán with a cold gaze. "And how is that of any use to me? How arrogant you are to come here without protection of your own, believing you can employ my services with empty words that would have me rely on others who may or," he shrugged, "may not be real."

Mordán swallowed, his face now flushed. "You didn't let me finish," he said hoarsely. "I was going to say, starlight within a Mysteis's gaze or the light of mind of a ruler from the Hidden Realms. If you don't believe me, look for yourself." He glanced down at the book in Ralian's hand.

With a nod from Ralian, Thron released Mordán.

"I don't know what light of mind means," Mordán stated as he took a deep breath and wiped the blood from his neck, "but Akila—the Mysteis who works for me—claimed that you would."

"The light of mind contains the golden ray stored within those granted leadership within my realm. It allows access to knowledge that is limited or undetected by most." He looked at Mordán. "However, mine," he pointed to the marking on his forehead, "is almost at its limit. Ever since I have been banished to this," his eyes turned hard, "prison, it has faded in power." He nodded to his warriors and they moved to the door. "Follow me."

The group entered a dark cathedral-shaped hallway. The only light in the hallway seeped from the bottom edges of the floor and the skin of the Avehkal as their gold markings lit in the darkened space.

Ralian dismissed his two warriors and led the rest to the upper level of the palace. Lucian hesitantly followed as he noted the increase in damaged stone on the palace stairs. Ralian did not turn around as he spoke. "The palace merely protests our presence. It will not collapse."

Ralian indicated for the visitors to sit once they entered an office, which was simple in design, but laced with artifacts and weapons of the Avehkal. Mordán and Lucian remained standing, however, busily surveying the room. Ralian went to stand before a window that overlooked the palace grounds as Thron leaned against the door frame, eyeing their company with a cautious gaze.

"If you betray me, Mordán, I will not only kill you, but your entire kingdom," Ralian said in a low voice without turning around.

Mordán opened his mouth to speak, but Ralian held up his hand for silence as he studied the book in his hand. "Your actions will speak for you, Mordán. I do not need your words." He turned to address him. "Your enemy?"

"The light warriors."

Thron stood straighter. He cast Ralian a sharp glance.

Ralian's expression turned to one of amusement. "You would take on those gifted with the power of creation and blessed by the high priestesses?" He chuckled, revealing the pointed edges of his gold teeth for the first time. "You must have a powerful weapon at your disposal."

"A variety of advantageous angles, including your own warriors if you agree to assist."

"And their allies?"

"Various tribal warriors, the Inala, and a Mysteis."

Ralian raised an eyebrow. "There are stories claiming the Mysteis no longer exist, but you state there is more than one on your planet?"

"Yes. He is called Malik. He has been part of the Light Warrior Order for centuries."

"You claim that the other, Akila, is working with you and has not allied with her own kind?"

"She seeks to kill him."

Ralian crossed his arms and lifted a hand to his chin. He smirked. "It is unwise to trust those that carry high levels of power accompanied with a heart for revenge. Yet, you feel as if she will not betray you?"

Mordán shrugged. "She has proven her loyalty so far." He looked at the surroundings of the office. "Why were you banished from Galinia?"

At the mention of his homeland, Ralian stiffened as a his expression hardened. "I sought a different and broader rule, as you do, and was thwarted by my own people—those who betrayed me." His gaze relaxed. "I don't deny that I still seek power over my old realm. The beauty and resources of both the inner and outer dominion of my planet are indescribable. Rastar represents the extreme opposite of my homeland. The only other that outmatches it is that of your own planet." His eyes narrowed. "If I assist you Mordán, I need your assurance. If we do not return to Galinia, my people will be exiled to Veynile."

Lucian gasped. "The Land of Demons?"

"Yes."

"It is worth the risk, Ralian," Mordán stated. "You are the only warriors equal in strength and mentality to that of the Inala."

Ralian flipped through the pages of the book. He paused when he came to a page with the rune that read, Javen, at the top. He studied the markings on the page for several moments and then paused again on another page, Warriors of Light.

His brow furrowed as he silently read the translation for the runes Akila had written in the margins.

"You understand the translations?" Mordán asked.

Ralian nodded.

"Then you could create such a weapon?"

"Yes."

Ralian ripped away the block of pages from the binding. He handed the pages out to Lucian as he studied the binding. "You can keep this. I've already committed it to memory."

Lucian nodded as he looked at Ralian in awe.

The symbol on Ralian's head emitted a soft golden light. After several moments, the same glow seeped through the gold in his eyes. As the light expanded over the book binding, symbols representing a galactic map surfaced within the glow. Ralian narrowed his gaze in concentration until the light from his forehead faded. He closed his eyes.

"Is it as he claims?" Thron asked with a hint of eagerness.

"It is, brother," he said in a low voice. "It is." He turned to Mordán. "We will prepare the weapons immediately and wait for your call."

"Will you be able to slip past Aeolus's patrol?" Mordán questioned. "We can risk no delay."

Ralian grinned, his sharp teeth glinting. "I've already been doing that for years."

***